


Fireflies

by Rew_Blew



Series: New Note November [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: 30 Day Original Story Development Challenge, How Do I Tag, I Tried, I made a 1k work one shot based of a sond, Writing Prompt, but instead it is just a new story each time, new note November, oh well, probably is trash, they are all based of songs, took 30 minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:33:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27338731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rew_Blew/pseuds/Rew_Blew
Summary: the first day of a writing challenge with the prompts of basing the story off of a random song from your playlist when shuffled.today is fireflies by Owl city
Series: New Note November [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996255





	Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first non-fandom work I have posted on this platform and it is no that long but eh, it is a one-shot.
> 
> Not gonna lie this went off the rails about halfway through but that is the point of the prompt, it is not a guideline just inspiration.

“What are you drawling dear?”

“I’m drawling the fireflies.”

“The fireflies?”

“Yeah, they come out when I sleep.”

“Where have you ever seen a firefly?”

“In my dreams”

“What else do you dream about?"

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Everything, you’re not real. I made you up so I would not be as lonely.”

“Who told you that dear.”

“No one I just know. I mean I’m asleep right now so it makes sense since I don’t have a momma anymore after mine left me because I’m not worth anything in her eyes but that’s alright because I have my daddy.”

It did not matter as the fireflies came to me with arms open and surrounded me in hugs. When did I begin crying? The teardrops dry on my cheek as I begin dancing though. Foxtrots and sock hop from the lightning bugs showing me how to dance just like them because I don’t know how, but I can learn too, even if it is rather slow.

I don’t want to wake up. I never do. but it is inevitable lest I stay here forever and never see those that I care about again. When I do I’ll just be greeted by the strangely shaped ceiling light ready to fall on top of me at any moment.

I wonder if he shut the door again. He probably did. _Help_. I wish he wouldn’t because when I move around really late the knob always makes a noise and if I’m not careful he will wake up and will not be happy. _Help, please._ They say that I’m fine and that I just need to tucker myself by counting sheep or the like but I’m not a child and they do not put me to sleep but just make me far more tired than I already am. _Someone, anyone?_ My brain is so tired to actually shut up and sleep because that would be logical and when is anything I ever do logical. _This is not what I want._

The process of waking up is never an easy one but it still falls upon me as the fireflies, tens of millions, fade to the glow of my night light in the corner in my still dark room. I would leave and walk as far as possible but then I would have to leave and I don’t want to do that, don’t want to say goodbye. So, I deal with the dreams like tonight when I can’t tell when I am or who I am but only that I am and it hurts.

I want to sleep. I just want to sleep. Grabbing my friends from the toy chest I crawl back into my twin-sized bed.

Peace finds me there at 4:31 in the morning, in the bed, in a dream world I will never leave, the passaged I had used a mere minute before closed off for all eternity.

He would come in at 5: 42 only a few minutes before he must go to work. But all he will be greeted with is a cold body one belong to a child who once would ride on his back.

The door shut behind him as he leaves still a bit drunk from last night. Leaves the house and goes to work. The breathless shell of a once happy person, now happy again with the only friends ever known, the fireflies.

To come back home that night and open the door to see not a single thing has changed. To close the door again and slide down it. Tears slipping down his face. The pain felt when love is lost and you can not change it no matter how hard you wish and dream that it was all a joke, all just fake. To call and report the same love to the emergency line and inform them that very love has been gone since morning.

To know that the breakfast that you never thought about is gone. That the person who got up at such an outrageous hour to make it for you is gone. And you never once said thanks. And now never can. To know all of this and more, to lose everything again, and now have no one to support you it must truly hurt. The air burning up in your chest. No longer going in or out of your lungs no matter how much your lungs scream in protest.

To not be breathing but still alive when the love you never cherished is rushed away from you. A blanket to ground you and keep you warm but not for the one person who you should love more than everything but never did never cared enough to. It must truly hurt that the last words you ever spoke to that someone, now flawlessly joining in with the fireflies, were that they would never be worth enough to dance with those in the lights. Because the fireflies took what they wanted and then left. Left you alone, but you always were in the end. You made sure of it, you wanted it. Now you have it thanks to the fireflies and your abusive nature on those whose minds were under so much stress that you never wanted to pay to fix or help ease upon.

I see none of it, however. I no longer see hear, think, feel, if there was a heaven, like the one that she promised me every weekend as reasoning to go and sit and stand for an hour, then it surely did not want to me. Because breath is not an old friend but a constant.

Nothing. That it was is left in the end for me. I can not say this is death for those who deserve to be tortured, but thoughts do not have enough room in this emptiness to form. I wish I knew why but I know not now. Only that the fireflies no longer dance here, but if they will not then I will for them. I learned in those nights that visions plagued my mind that to move clears all from one’s mind. My mind may already be empty but I care not, I can’t.

To those that see this save the fireflies. The light guides those who bask in the beauty of simplicity. I found in my years that detail adds boundaries. The fireflies do not have details they just are just as I am.

**Author's Note:**

> I left the story ambiguous on purpose for the unreliable narrator aesthetic. the main character defiantly has some type of mental illness but which one I have left up to the reader to decide. Originally in the first draft, I had them die by their meds failing. I will not confirm the gender of the character as I do not know at this point.


End file.
